


A Taste Of Chlorophyll

by Dubbrubz



Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 22:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10672407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dubbrubz/pseuds/Dubbrubz
Summary: "He's in love with someone who would reject him."Matt stared down in horror at the holographic images in his hands, at the black-and-white roses that slithered up his friend's skeleton, the vines that encased his ribcage, his arms, his spine, and even his throat. "Wh-What?""Nathan; He loves someone that he knows will reject him, so, he's repressed this love. It's turned into something parasitic; Roses, that feed off of him. He's basically a walking flower nursery."Matt shook his head. There was no way this was true. Who on Earth could Nate be so in love with that this would be the result?





	A Taste Of Chlorophyll

Existing was painful, Nate mused that morning, staring at the ceiling of his apartment, the couch cushions pressing against his back.

With the taste of rose water and chlorophyll burned into his mouth, he let tears sting his cheeks.

Why couldn't he be normal?

Why couldn't he be in love with someone else? He just had to fall for his best friend, who was happily married to his wife.

But, no. He could feel his love that he kept repressed and hidden so deeply turning into something so dangerous. Thorns of bitter rejection dug sharply into his chest, acidic realization stinging and burning his skin. He knew that he could never be with Matt... So, why did he keep falling so hard?

The musician forced himself up, sharp coughing wracking through him. Bloodied rose petals fluttered out of his mouth and onto his outstretched palm, tears pricking his eyes as he stared down at the flower petals. It hurt to move, to think, to even breathe. Everything just hurt.

The musician forced himself to his feet, wincing at the stabbing pains in his chest, gripping his shirt as he bit his lip. He forced himself to shower, to get dressed, to eat. Normal actions that a human were required to do, that were almost automatic, were ones that he had the hardest time following through with. Attempting to get his body to function came with the scratching and agonizing sting that seared through his bones, that made his skin crawl and itch.

It was like his skin was being torn into by rose thorns, the constriction in his lungs being the vines that wrapped around the beautiful yet defensive plant. Rose petals scattered his home, bloodstained and wilting, once bright pink, white and yellow petals melting into decomposing matter that left the scent of roses strong while they scented the air.

It was beautiful, the kind of beauty that left his stomach in knots as he would empty the contents of it into the toilet time and time again once he'd worked his nerves up enough. The kind of beautiful that left tears of pure agony in his eyes while he forced himself to smile, to be happy, to pretend he was doing just fine. Even creating music was painful, words that he wanted to say, things he wanted to admit tearing his throat and shredding his vocal chords like shards of broken glass; ripping through his gums and teeth.

Nate wanted the agony to end.

He wanted to cease existing, just so he wouldn't have to face the paralyzing pain he faced day in and day out.

And yet, he couldn't.

Too many people needed him.

If he suffered through two years, he could struggle through however many more that he had to live... Right?

Nate's phone buzzed and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. He'd fallen asleep at his desk again, this not being too much of a surprise. This is where he spent most of his time, attempting to drown the sorrowful depression that crashed down on him, kept him caged. Where he tried to forget the world and plunge himself into ones that could never exist, but still helped him forget.

The contact info made his stomach turn itself over. Matt...

Nate sucked in a breath, forced a smile and answered. "Hey, Matt. What's goin' on, bro?"

The brunette grinned on the other line at the sound of his friend's voice. Nate was one of his closest companions, the one he really liked to turn to and do little aimless activities with, such as film videos or just hang out and watch movies with. And that was the plan that day. "Hey, Nate! Glad you answered! Steph and I were thinking about doin' a movie marathon on Netflix and we were wondering if maybe you wanted to come over?"

In that instant, Nate wanted to say no. He knew it would be better for his well-being to say no. Two letters that always failed to leave his mouth, that always made his pain worse not speaking them. "Sure." He choked out through a fit of coughing, another flurry of petals leaving his lips. "Sounds great." Matt took notice in his friend's coughing and frowned.

"Hey, you doing okay? You sound sick. Maybe you should get some rest?"

Nate wished he'd went with that excuse, bluffed an illness just so he wouldn't be entitled to go at this point. Instead, his stupid mouth had to rush out with; "Oh, no no! I'm fine, Matt. I was just eating and choked on a bit of my food. When do you want me over? Do I need to bring anything?" He wished Matt hadn't fallen for that lamely put-together excuse, that he would call him out on that bullshit and insist he just stay home, that he wasn't missing anything. That his horribly deteriorating well-being was more important then some two, almost three hour flick they would pick off of the wide array of movies provided by the entertainment company.

"Oh, alright! As for bringing things, probably just bring whatever snack and/or drink you want. We've got drinks here, but not snacks."

Nate gave a tiny forced laugh, trying to make himself sound cheerful. "You've got it, man. I'll be there in a hour, alright?"

"Sounds good. See ya, Matt.

"See ya soon, Nate!"

Once the musician hung up, he tossed his phone on his desk and leaned back in his office chair, massaging his eyes with the heels of his hands. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he allow his want to feed off of him like a parasite? He was just so stupid...

 _He could never love a pathetic, love-sick leech like yourself._  
_Why do you keep dreaming? Keep trying? It'll do nothing for you in the end~_  
_You're nothing but an inconvenience..._  
_Remember, Nathan; If he ever dislikes something you do, he can get rid of you in the blink of an eye._

Nate whimpered, his fingers digging into his temples while the voices that clawed in the back of his mind attacked and badgered him, reminding him how worthless he really was to Matt. He was like a piece of garbage, something the brunette could toss aside once he got tired of him.

And that thought stabbed him in the heart harder then the thought of rejection itself ever could, making him double over with a small cry. Thousands of tiny needles dug into his heart, burning and engraving agony into his body, pulsing and dripping into his veins. He couldn't do this. He had to call Matt back, tell him that he changed his mind, and yet, he couldn't do it. His hand trembled as he reached out for his phone before falling to his knee, gripping his pant leg while his other hand tangled in his hair, gripping the strands until his scalp stung. He _could_ do this... What was another fake smile? Another forced laugh?

With this thought, Nate was at Matt's house an hour later, knocking on his door while he hugged his hoodie close to himself. The day was cool, the sun casting golden rays of light over the beautiful two story home Matt and Stephanie inhabited. Clear blue skies painted overhead, a cloud or two slowly rolling by. The tweeting of birds filled the air with their own music, beautifully striking his ears.

Stephanie answered the door, her brunette hair tied up in a loose bun, dressed in a tank top and jeans. She was beautiful, Nate had to admit, and fun to be around. But, he couldn't help but feel nothing but envy for her. For her life. And yet, he offered a dimpled grin down at her. "Hey, Steph."

Stephanie smiled back. "Hey, Nate! Glad you could make it. Come on in!"

He nodded, running a hand through his hair and stepping into his friend and wife's home, greeted by the same homey feeling he always got when he stepped into the Patrick residence. Skip ran up to him, weaving between his legs as he took his shoes off and left them by the door, rubbing his cheek against his pant leg. Nate chuckled weakly and collected the feline into his arms, scratching behind his ears.

"Hey, pretty kitty~" The musician cooed, Skip pressing his forehead to Nate's chin. He and the cat seemed to share a personal bond, the feline never leaving his side until he had to.

"Matt's in the living room getting ready to pick a movie."

Stephanie told him in a cheery tone that made Nate feel sick. God, why did he agree to do this...?

"Thanks, Steph."

He muttered, wandering down the hall with Skip still in his grasp.

Matt looked up at his best friend as he strode into the living room, beaming and waving. "Hey, Nate."

Nate offered a weak smile, not able to stop his heart from kicking up, thundering loudly in his ears. He felt weak in the knees, his limbs like Jell-o. "H-Hey, Matt."

Named brunette frowned as he looked the smaller male over. He looked exhausted, like he'd been up for the past couple of weeks without sleep- And to be honest, he wasn't exactly wrong. Dark circles encased his shimmering ebony eyes, his cheeks flushed pink, almost like he really was sick. "Are you sure you're feeling alright, Nate? You kinda look like Death won over."

God, was that right on the nose on how Nate felt. He wanted to be ripped limb from limb. He wanted to be dissected, to bleed out. He wanted the horrifically delicious pain that etched it's way into his collective conscious to end. And yet, he couldn't just cease existing like he wanted to. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just touring a lot, kinda wearing me down, ya know?"

Matt simply shrugged this off. He could understand what Nate meant by touring; Jet lag was probably a killer. "Alright, well, if you need some sleep, I can get you a blanket and a few pillows?"

"O-Oh, no, I'm alright."

The brunette again nodded, seeming to lose all concern for his friend as his wife came into the room holding a bowl of popcorn. "How're my two favorite guys doing?" She cooed sweetly, offering the bowl out to Nate, who offered a weak smile and took it from her.

"We're doing great, honey." Matt smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to Stephanie's forehead while Nate shuffled to the end of the couch, huddling in the corner to give the young couple their space.

Neither of them noticed as Stephanie climbed into Matt's lap, her back pressed to the theorist's chest while he wrapped his arms around her lithe frame. Matt hummed, resting his chin on her shoulder while she flipped through movies.

"What do you guys want to watch?" She asked the two men curiously, which prompted Matt to look over at Nate who was chewing on the tips of his fingers, gently tugging at his bottom lip with the pads of his fingers. This was a habit, almost a tic, Matt discovered. Something Nate did, as if he was trying to preoccupy his mind. "Nate, any movie suggestions?"

Named male looked over, wanting to melt at the sight of that lovely smile and shimmering oaky chestnut eyes. God, why was it that everything about Matt left him completely weak? He would do anything for him. "Oh, u-uh, I'm cool with anything. Whatever you want to watch is fine with me." He offered a tiny smile himself, though, his dimples weren't prominent and his eyes didn't light up like they would when he truly smiled.

Matt nodded, ending up putting on Back To The Museum. The young couple shared little kisses here and there through the film while Nate cuddled Skip close to his chest, feeling the melodic purr that the feline produced rumbling through him. His thoughts were clouded and he forced himself to repress tears, wanting to break down sobbing simply because he was next to the man he was so pathetically and pitifully in love with, and yet he couldn't have him.

It was half way through the movie that Nate ended up falling asleep, unable to keep his exhausted eyes open for a moment longer. Matt looked over at his sleeping friend and chuckled, watching him cuddle Skip in his sleep. The musician was pretty damn cute, now that he was really looking. Like a sleepy little kitten, twitching slightly in his sleep.

The brunette lightly tapped Stephanie's thigh. "Can you get up, please? I'm gonna grab Nate a blanket." His wife nodded, collecting the empty bowl of popcorn.

"I'm gonna go get some more popcorn, then." Matt nodded and she stood, disappearing to the kitchen while the theorist wandered to one of the many closet storage spaces the house possessed, grabbing a blanket and carrying it back into the living room, draping it over the smaller male. Matt stared down at Nate, sighing softly. He found himself gently carding his fingers through the raven hair the musician possessed, gently massaging his scalp.

Looking down at his friend, he realized just how pale and fragile-looking his best friend had become, like he was slowly decomposing and slipping away. And then, Nate coughed, and much to Matt's horror, petals fluttered out of his mouth and onto the carpeted floor, bloodied and bright. The brunette bent down, collecting the petals into his hand, gently grazing over them with his fingertips.

The velvety soft texture told him they were real, the scent of rose filling the air. Nate could cough up _rose petals?_

That really couldn't be healthy. Why wasn't he in the hospital? "Nate..." Matt muttered softly, gently shaking the smaller male. Nate groaned, batting at Matt's hand, hugging his makeshift hoodie pillow close to himself. "Nate, wake up..."

The musician gave a grumble of protest, pushing himself up onto his elbow. "Matt... What's wrong?" The brunette held out the rose petals to Nate, his eyebrows knit with concern.

"Nate, what the hell is this?" Nate looked down at the petals, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Huh...?"

"Just now, you coughed these up. What the hell?"

Nate frowned, looking dazed and confused, much like a little child. "I mean... I've been doing that for two years..." _Two years_?!

"Nate, two years?!" The smaller male winced as Matt raised his voice, which was laced with fear and worry. "This isn't normal!"

"Matt, I--"

"No, Nathan Sharp, we're taking you to the hospital." There would be no room for argument on Nate's part as Matt collected the smaller male into his arms. Steph looked confused, looking out of the kitchen at the sight of her husband carrying his best friend bridal style to the door.

"What happened?" She asked, watching Matt look back at her.

"I'm taking Nate to the hospital. We'll be back in a few hours."

This made Stephanie frown, but, before she could ask again why, Matt had already tugged on his shoes and carried Nate out the door. On the way to the hospital, Nate kept coughing, petals fluttering into his lap and the floorboards of the car, leaving the brunette's eyes to flick between him and the road. Why hadn't he noticed that the musician was doing this? Why hadn't anyone else noticed this...?

Cold linoleum floors and the smell of bleach and Pine-Sol greeted the two as Matt rushed into the hospital, Nate in his arms. The little musician looked so dazed and spaced out, like he really couldn't perceive what was going on, simply because Matt kept ripping him out of his naps and he was really only half-awake. Once the brunette managed to flag down a nurse, she took him to a back room, telling him the doctor would be in soon.

While waiting, Matt paced while Nate laid propped up in a bed, his head lulling lazily as he attempted to keep himself awake. Once the doctor came in, Matt rushed to explain what had happened, leaving a solum expression to cross the man's features. "I believe I know what's going on here." The doctor took a few X-Rays before disappearing to develop the images.

When he came back, he looked grim, frowning as he clutched the processed X-Rays in his hands. "You're going to want to see this, Mister Patrick." Matt took the X-rays and gasped in shock.

"He's in love with someone who would reject him."

Matt stared down in horror at the holographic images in his hands, at the black-and-white roses that slithered up his friend's skeleton, the vines that encased his ribcage, his arms, his spine, and even his throat. "Wh-What?"

"Nathan; He loves someone that he knows will reject him, so, he's repressed this love. It's turned into something parasitic; Roses, that feed off of him. He's basically a walking flower nursery."

Matt shook his head. There was no way this was true. Who on Earth could Nate be so in love with that this would be the result? "What can I do to help him?"

The doctor sighed and shook his head. "There's nothing you can do to assist with this, Mister Patrick. All you can really do is keep an eye on him, make sure this doesn't get any worse."

Matt solemnly nodded. "I understand..."

With that, Matt took Nate back to his home, insisting that the musician was going to be staying with him, no questions asked. Nate couldn't really find the place to argue, just weakly nodding and accepting that Matt wasn't going to give up on this. The couch became Nate's bed for the next few months and Matt was catering to him, hand and foot. Nate hated the attention, yet loved it at the same time. He was getting to talk to his friend more often, spend a little more time then usual with him.

And yet, it seemed that Steph didn't like this. Her and Matt would argue more over the lack of attention she was gaining. How Matt was always caring for Nate instead of her. Matt tried to defend the fact that his best friend was most likely _dying_ , and yet, Stephanie didn't care. She wanted her man paying attention to her, not his best friend. And yet, Matt couldn't just leave Nate to die to this horrible disease.

Finally, Stephanie hit her breaking point and declared a divorce, leaving it to just be Matt and Nate in the large house, along with skip. With Stephanie being gone, Matt dedicated all of his time to Nate, much to the musician's protests. He could see his agony, his voice rubbed raw from constant coughing, the trash cans filled with dying rose petals.

One night when Nate had drifted off and Matt was still awake, the brunette sighed, gently carrying the musician up the stairs with him and laying him in his bed. The theorist then laid down next to his friend and pulled him close to his chest, gently rubbing the heel of his hand up and down Nate's back, leaving the musician to sigh blissfully. Matt's touch was like a painkiller, better then any a medical professional could provide, the warmth enveloping him more intense then any hot day that California could conjure up.

The next morning when Nate woke up, he noticed something odd. The pain that normally greeted him had been reduced to nothing but a dull throbbing, something warm wrapped around his back. He blinked to clear his vision, feeling for his glasses until he found them resting on the bedside table. Odd... He could've sworn that he fell asleep with them on...

He pushed the glasses on and looked down to see an arm slung around his waist, his legs tangled with someone else's. What...? He glanced back to see a mess of brunette hair, a face buried into his back. Was that... Matt? Nate's face lit up with a bright red blush, his eyes wide. What the ever loving hell? Why was Matt holding him? He decided, after a few moments, however, not to question it. He just laid down, turning so he could nuzzle into Matt's chest, gripping his shirt.

When Matt woke, he looked down to see Nate smiling softly, clinging to his shirt like he was terrified the brunette was going to get up and leave him. He smiled softly and gently carded his fingers through locks of messy midnight hair, pressing a little kiss to Nate's forehead. He wasn't going to lie, he'd began developing feelings for his friend over the few months he'd come to take care of him, but he'd stopped himself from admitting this, considering Nate had his own repressed love to worry about.

And yet, at the kiss to his forehead, Nate practically purred, leaning up into the gentle touch of Matt's hand on his head, enjoying the fingers carding through his hair and massaging his scalp. Matt noticed this and grinned softly. "Nate..." The little musician groaned, whimpering. He was having the best dream, too. "Natey-kins, wake up~" At the sound of his name in that melodic coo, he cracked his eyes open, looking up at those beautiful shimmering oak eyes that greeted him.

"Good morning, sleepy head~"

"Morning..." Nate muttered sleepily, looking so dazed and out of it, his eyes fluttering shut again.

"Come on, beautiful. Open those pretty eyes for me..." At the sweet words dripping from Matt's lips and tongue like sweetened honey, Nate blushed heavily, biting his lip as he sheepishly looked up at the brunette. "Matt, what're you--"

Nate was cut off as he felt warm lips on his own, his eyes widening. Was Matt... Kissing him? This had to be a dream. This all just had to be some sick, twisted dream, his mind screwing with him, just wanting him to hurt more. Tears pooled in his eyes, but he couldn't find the strength to pull away, the sweet taste of Matt's lips keeping him roped in.

When the kiss was broken, Matt cupped Nate's cheeks, brushing his tears away. "Something I should've done a long time ago, gorgeous. I'm your repressed love... Aren't I?" Nate's cheeks turned crimson in a matter of seconds.

"How... How did you know?"

"I just had a gut feeling." Matt's grin was mischievous as he pressed another kiss to Nate's lips, rolling him onto his back so he was hovering over him, hands on his slender waist. Nate kissed back without any questions asked, relishing in the sweet release he would get from this kiss, from the soft touch. He was finally free of the agony. Of the torment he's impressed on himself. And all it took was one little kiss from the love of his life.


End file.
